


Two Nerds in Love

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Baking, Birthday Sex, Bisexual Phil Coulson, Characters Watching Star Wars, Crossdressing, Daisy Taking Care of Phil, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, IN SPAAAAACE, Light Angst, Nerdiness, POV Phil Coulson, Pi Day, Pie, Post-Season/Series 04, Star Wars Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 07:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11436561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Daisy and Coulson enjoy being nerdy together.





	Two Nerds in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Set during S1, post-S2, and post S4 this is basically a celebration of the nerdyness of Cousy.
> 
> Written for the Johnson & Coulson 'Happy Phil Day 2' fest to celebrate Coulson's birthday.

Without friends, or anyone else he knows, aboard the space prison to which he was taken following their escape from the Framework, Phil Coulson finds himself reliving the development of his relationship with Daisy via dreams of some significant shared moments.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

"What's all this?" asks Coulson as he walks into the tiny galley of the Bus and sees an assortment of bakery bags spread across the counter.

Skye turns and frowns at him. "What are you doing up, AC?"

He raises his eyebrows. "I'm not an actual child," he points out, amused at her 'mom' tone.

She rolls her eyes. "No, but you went to bed a couple of hours ago."

"Should I be alarmed by the fact that you keep track of my sleeping habits?" He asks the question lightly, but he's a little confused.

"I don't," she says in a defensive tone. "Not usually. It's just that I waited until everyone had gone to bed to do this, and now you're up." She turns to face him fully and he catches a glimpse of a pie on a plate, and a bag of cake icing, and his curiosity increases tenfold, but as he moves to her side she reaches out and touches his upper arm lightly. "Did you have a nightmare?"

He gives her a startled look. "Is it that obvious?" he asks worriedly. He doesn't want the others to know he gets nightmares about what was done to him.

"To me, at least," she says softly. She slides her hand down his arm to his wrist, then draws it away, and he doesn't think, he just catches hold of her hand and tangles his fingers with hers, holding it carefully. She doesn't seem to mind.

"You have nightmares too?" he asks gently.

"Sometimes," she says, and squeezes his hand in hers. 

He turns towards her and wraps his other arm around her, drawing her body against his. "I'm sorry," he says, pressing his lips to her hair.

"Why're you sorry?" she asks, her voice muffled because her face is buried in his neck.

"Well it's almost certainly SHIELD's fault."

"But it's not _your_ fault, AC," she says, her tone quite insistent.

"No, but – "

"Coulson." There's a finality in her tone when she says his name, so he abandons that line of thought and concentrates, instead, on how nice it is to be hugging Skye like this. He shouldn't, of course – it's hardly appropriate, but he doesn't care right now. He'd had an awful nightmare about the GH-325 and what was done to him after he was given it, and what it might do to Skye since Simmons gave it to her, and it's such a huge relief to find her safe and whole in the plane's galley.

"So you didn't tell me what you're doing up at 2am with lots of bakery bags and some cake icing," he says after wallowing for a bit in the pleasure of holding Skye.

"It was meant to be a surprise," she tells him, pulling back from him enough to direct a pout at him, which makes him smirk. 

"And I ruined it?" he asks.

"Not ruined it, exactly," she says, then sighs, and turns him towards the pie he'd glimpsed earlier. 

He stares at it in a mixture of disbelief and amazement. "Skye," he breathes.

The pie – a fruit one from the scent of it – has 'Happy Pi(e) Day' across the middle, and around the edge she's begun icing the long string of digits that make up the mathematical constant, Pi. 

"I know I teased you about wanting to celebrate 'Pi Day'," she says, "but I thought this might be fun – and it might cheer us all up a bit with everything that's been happening lately."

"And you're going to ice them all?" he asks, awed.

"That's the plan," she agrees, looking at him as if she's expecting to be told off for this.

"Can I help?" he asks eagerly, and she looks startled, then grins. 

"Yeah," she agrees, and hands him another icing bag.

It takes them over an hour, but eventually all six family sized pies are iced with variations on 'Happy Pi(e) Day', the edges decorated either with the actual number or with the Greek π symbol. When Skye finishes the final one, he pulls her into his arms for a celebratory hug, and she kisses him. He doesn't hesitate, he just kisses her back, clasping the sides of her face as he angles his mouth to kiss her more deeply.

They come up for air after a few minutes, then he laces his fingers through hers and leads her from the galley, upstairs and into his bedroom. They make love quietly, whispering and murmuring encouragement and endearments to each other, then fall asleep with their bodies entangled together.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

"Where are we going?" Coulson asks as Skye – _Daisy_ , he reminds himself with a mental curse that he's still not able to remember to use her new name – leads him, blindfolded, through the Playground. 

"It's a surprise," she tells him, a hint of laughter in her voice. Her left arm is wrapped around his body as she guides him through the hallways. Eventually they enter the hangar – he can tell by the way the sounds seem more echo-y, meaning they've entered a larger space.

"Daisy," he whines. She finds it hard to withstand him whining, he knows, which is why he so rarely does it. 

Her breath tickles his ear, arousing him a little. "It's gonna be fun, Phil," she whispers, and he shivers in anticipatory pleasure.

"We're flying somewhere?" he asks when he feels her guiding him up what's obviously a ramp. 

"Yes," she says, and settles him in a seat in the back of the Quinjet. "Don't worry, it's on autopilot, so we're the only ones here." 

He feels the plane take off, and then she fumbles at the harness and a moment later her weight settles in his lap. "Daisy," he groans, instantly, achingly hard. 

She kisses him, her tongue slipping past his teeth to stroke across the roof of his mouth, then curl around his tongue.

"Fuck," he mutters.

"Shall we?" she asks in a low voice, palming his erection through his pants.

"Yes," he gasps, and in moments she has his jeans open and his swollen cock in her hand. He groans as she rubs the head up and down her slit a few times, then cries out in shock when she guides it into her hot, slick pussy.

It's only after she's climaxed twice, and he's come once, that he realises she hasn't removed the blindfold, and the thought thrills him so much his softening cock twitches.

"Did you enjoy that, Phil?" she asks, her tone somewhere between teasing and caressing.

"Yes," he breathes, and kisses her frantically until he's hard all over again, and they fuck a second time.

Once they arrive at their destination Daisy leads him from the Quinjet and at the bottom of the ramp she pulls off the blindfold to reveal the Retreat a few metres away.

"What?" he gasps, startled.

"I talked to Andrew and Jemma," Daisy says calmly, "and they agreed it'd be a good thing for you to have a few days away from the Playground while you're adjusting to the prosthetic." She nods at the leather-glove covering his new hand. "Don't worry, May's in charge in your absence, with Mack as her second-in-command."

He swallows, trying hard not to cry at this kindness, her thoughtfulness flooring him as it always does – it shouldn't, he knows, because Daisy's always been thoughtful of others and their needs, but he hadn't expected this.

"Are you okay?" she asks suddenly. "Was this a bad idea? Because – "

He doesn't let her get any further, just wraps his arms around her and hugs her, trying not to cry. "Thank you," he says gruffly.

"You're welcome." She gives him a squeeze then pulls back a little. "If you're okay with the idea, we should grab our bags, and then I can signal the Playground to let them know to bring the plane back to base."

"I'm okay," he says emphatically, so she nods, then lets go of him, and after a moment he follows her back up the ramp to collect their bags. He's a bit puzzled by the large garment bag that's hanging up in the interior. "What's that?"

"You'll find out soon enough, I promise," she says, grinning at him.

He feels his heart beat quicken, though he has no idea why – maybe because her grin looks wickedly gleeful, so he simply nods, then grabs and shoulders the carryon that Daisy indicates is his, before snagging a box of what she tells him are food supplies. She shoulders her own bag, picks up a smaller one in her left hand, then unhooks the garment bag with her free hand and follows him down the ramp. They carry everything inside, then Daisy turns for the door. She stops, looks back at him, then over at the garment bag that she's draped over the back of the couch.

"No peeking," she admonishes him, wagging a finger for added emphasis.

He throws a salute, and she goes out on a peal of laughter to send the Quinjet back to the base, and though Coulson's strongly tempted to peek, he decides he'll wait for her big reveal. He suspects she's brought a posh dress of some sort to wear for dinner, and he finds himself wondering what Daisy would look like in an evening gown or a cocktail dress – he vividly remembers the pink dress she wore when she infiltrated Quinn's place in Malta, and he has to press his palm against his crotch as he feels his cock stir at the memory of Daisy in that dress when she was soaking wet from leaping into Quinn's pool.

She comes back in as he's putting the food into the cabinets and fridge, and wondering if she'd asked Koenig to do the shopping for this trip.

"You didn't peek?" Daisy asks as soon as she's through the door.

"Promise," he says.

"Good boy." She comes up behind him and wraps her arms around him. "So, I know it's your birthday tomorrow, and I thought we'd have a little fun celebration for it."

"Oh?"

"Mmhmm." She nuzzles the side of his neck, and he moans, instantly hard. "We also missed Star Wars Day, so I figured we'd combine a late celebration of that with a celebration of your birthday and well – " She breaks off and he turns quickly to face her.

"And what?" he asks curiously.

She looks a bit sheepish, he thinks, and wonders why.

"It was my birthday on July 2nd."

"Daisy," he says, startled, then a bit angry. "You didn't say anything. Why not?"

"Phil," she says, sounding a bit upset.

"What?" he asks, and puts a hand on her arm.

"I found out the date of my birthday at the family dinner I had with Jiaying and Cal while I was at Afterlife."

"Oh Daisy," he breathes, and wraps his arms around her, feeling as if his heart might break for her – she found her family, regained her real identity which HYDRA had stolen from her, then lost her family again – Jiaying dead at her father's hands so that she wouldn't kill Daisy, and Cal changed into an entirely different person via the TAHITI protocol, and all of that happening in a very short space of time.

"I'm so sorry," he says. "You must not have felt like celebrating."

"Not this year," she agrees, her voice thick with emotion.

"Then let's forget about birthdays, yours and mine, and just have a late celebration of Star Wars Day instead."

"Oh but – " 

"No," he says firmly, cutting her off. "We'll celebrate today, okay?"

"Thank you." She kisses him, and he kisses her back, trying to be as tender as he can. 

Eventually she pulls away, then smirks and says, "I thought we could dress up – your costume's in the bag on the couch."

"Really?" he asks excitedly, feeling heat in his face.

"Yeah. And I've got all the movies on my laptop, so we can watch as many or as few as you like." She smirks again. "And if you wanna re-enact some scenes – " She leaves that sentence dangling, and he laughs delightedly. 

"I like your thinking and your initiative, Agent Johnson," he says.

"That's Mr Solo, to you," she retorts, and his eyebrows shoot up, then he glances over at the garment bag, wondering if that means what he thinks it means. "I'm gonna go and change in the bedroom," she tells him. "Shout if you need any help with your costume."

He nods vaguely, already moving over to the bag as she slips past him and heads towards the bedroom. He bites his bottom lip in anticipation as he unzips the garment bag, then moans softly when he opens it and sees the white silky fabric: Daisy's brought him one of Princess Leia's costumes, as he'd hardly dared to hope she had.

He feels heat in his groin as well as his face as he eases the dress out, then he realises there's a pair of the appropriate shoes in the bottom of the garment bag too. And a further exploration reveals a padded bra, lacy panties, and silk stockings. He's painfully hard by the time he's got everything out of the bag and spread across the couch, and he presses the heel of his hand against his burgeoning erection. He picks up the stockings and caresses them, remembering that the last time he wore stockings was for a Rocky Horror Picture Show party, one Halloween – too many years ago.

He's still lost in memories of that evening, and the boyfriend who'd first talked him into wearing the outfit for the party, then helped him get dressed in the costume, and who had later fucked him while wearing only the stockings and high heels, when Daisy clears her throat, and he looks up, then stares a bit. 

She smirks, clearly pleased by his open-mouthed reaction to her costume, which even includes a belt and thigh holster for a blaster. 

"You look amazing," he tells her earnestly, and she blushes, then crosses to where he's still standing by the couch.

"Thanks." She draws her hand down his back. "You're not changed."

"No. I – uh – " He clears his throat, feeling the tops of his ears burn. "I was remembering the last time I wore stockings," he admits.

A slow grin crosses her face and she nudges his arm with hers. "A good memory, huh?" She looks pointedly at his crotch, and he swallows, then nods.

"Tell me?" she asks, and takes the stockings from him before beginning to unbutton his pale blue shirt. So as she gets him out of his clothes, he tells her about the Rocky Horror Halloween party, and Dan, the boyfriend who'd talked him into going, and to whom he'd lost his virginity aged 18 and a bit. 

By the time he's down to his boxers his cock's leaking pre-cum and he's more than a bit desperate to come. Daisy draws his erection free, curling her hand around his hot, hard flesh, and leans in to kiss him, simultaneously stroking him. He's on the verge of coming when she sinks to her knees and takes the head of his cock into her mouth, and it only takes one suck of her warm, velvety mouth and he climaxes so hard that he's surprised he doesn't pass out.

Then she helps him to put on the Leia costume, and by the time he's fully dressed again, he's also achingly hard again.

"You want me to fuck you, Princess?" Daisy asks in a low, husky voice – her Han Solo voice, he supposes.

"Yes," he gasps as she nips at his earlobe.

She guides him down onto the couch, then loses her clothes apart from the open-neck shirt, before climbing over him and sinking down onto him.

"Fuck, Han," he whispers, and she grins, then leans down and kisses him as she begins to move over him.

Once they're dressed again, she fetches some snacks and sodas, then they settle down to watch the first of the original _Star Wars_ trilogy movies. This might be the best birthday he's had since he was a kid, he thinks hazily as Daisy snuggles up alongside him on the couch.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

"Coulson." 

At first he thinks the low-voiced call of his name is just his imagination playing tricks on him, but it comes a second time and he looks around warily, then just stares in disbelief as he sees the familiar and very welcome face of Daisy peering at him around a corner in the hallway.

He puts down his tools and glances around a second time, then makes her way over to her side. "Daisy?"

She smiles and clasps his hand briefly. "Fancy a prison break for your birthday?" she asks, her eyes alight with excitement.

"Yes," he says adamantly.

She nods. "Do you need to get anything or are you ready to go now?"

"Let's go," he tells her.

"Okay." She looks up and down the corridor again, then jerks her head away from his work station. "Follow me."

He follows her (he always does, always will), and she leads him confidently through the labyrinthine hallways and down several stairways until they're in a lower level than he's ever been before.

"Where are we going?" he asks, voice soft and low.

She smirks. "To catch a ride with some new friends of mine," she says.

That smirk undoes him and he catches hold of her arm and moves in fast to kiss her, quickly, but with intent. "I've missed you," he breathes.

She chuckles warmly, and slides her free hand up his left arm to grab the back of his neck and tug him in for another fast, purposeful kiss. "Likewise, mister." She nips at his lip, then pulls away, but she's holding hands with him now – his prosthetic hand, he notices after a moment.

They slip through a door which he knows is meant to be locked, but he doesn't ask how she got it open – this is Daisy, after all, and while she may be an all-powerful Inhuman superhero, she's still, at core, the woman who hacked her way into SHIELD all those years before.

The hallways they move through now are dimly lit and stink of machine oil and humanoid sweat, but Coulson doesn't care – all that matters is Daisy's hand, warm in his, and the spark of hope in his heart that he'll finally get out of here.

"Where's the rest of the team?" he suddenly thinks to ask as she leads him through a vast, dark, echoing space.

"Safe, don't worry." She squeezes his hand. "Sorry, you're the last one to be rescued – it took me some time to track down where they'd taken you."

"It's okay, Daisy," he says firmly. "What are things like back home?"

"Phil." She sort of sighs his name. "I promise, you'll get a full debrief once we're safely aboard Sazzar's ship, okay?"

"Sorry," he says contritely.

She squeezes his hand again. "It's fine. It's just that we don't have much time left."

He nods, and follows her without further questions. Eventually she leads him up the ramp of a ship that reminds him somewhat of the Zephyr1 – except this is an actual spaceship. 

The person who greets them at the hatch at the top is blue, and he's immediately reminded of the Kree, but Daisy's hand squeezes his again, and he makes himself relax.

"Sazzar, this is Phil." The humanoid nods, and Coulson nods back. "Phil, Sazzar."

"If you're ready to go, Daisy, we should leave," Sazzar says in a beautifully melodic voice which is neither male nor female.

"We're ready," Daisy assures the alien, who nods again, then gestures them down a hallway. "C'mon." She tugs slightly at Coulson's hand, and he follows her again as she leads him through the spaceship: there's no time to stop and look, but he catches passing glimpses of pale blue and grey halls, further blue humanoids, and a handful of actual humans – or people who closely resemble humans.

"This is us," Daisy says eventually and palms a scanner plate alongside a door, then gestures him inside when the door slides up into the wall above his head.

He steps through and is relieved to see a room that looks similar to the bunks aboard the Z1, though this one is clearly built for two people.

"I expect you want to shower and change," Daisy says. "The ensuite's through there." She gestures through a doorway on the far side of the room. "It's a sonic shower, but you use as you would a regular one back home. There's also some clean clothes in there – just 'ship knits' as Sazzar calls them, but – "

"Daisy, it's fine. Thank you." He cups her cheek. "Honestly, you don't have to keep apologising to me, okay? I'm just overjoyed that you found me and were able to get me out of there."

She swallows, then nods. "I need to check in with Sazzar, and then I'll be back and we can catch up properly. Are you hungry?"

"Always," he admits ruefully. 

She nods again. "I'll fetch us something to eat on the way back."

"Thanks." He lets her go and heads towards the ensuite, very much liking the idea of a shower, even if it's a sonic one, and clean clothes. He's aware that he hasn't had a shower for over a week, that his clothes are disgusting, and that he hasn't eaten a decent meal since he sat down with the team in that diner – and that feels like a lifetime ago. (He's not sure exactly how long ago it is – in the Nova Corps prison there were no days and nights, just work shifts and sleep shifts.)

When he re-emerges from the ensuite, clean and clad in what's effectively a jumpsuit in pale blue and cream, he finds Daisy waiting for him – and sees that the small corner table is laden with food.

"Feeling better?" she asks. 

"Much, thank you."

She nods, then suddenly looks like she might burst into tears, which startles him but he hurries towards her and wraps her in his arms and she clings tightly to him, sobbing silently into his neck. He guides her towards a couch that's behind her and draws her down to sit on his lap as he holds her and she continues to sob.

"I thought I'd never find you," she tells him at last, still clinging to him.

"I never doubted that you would," he tells her and she pulls back to look at him, as if she doesn't believe him. "Honestly, Daisy – I know you, and I know your skills. I knew it was just a matter of time."

She heaves a sigh. "Sorry for – "

He cuts her off. "Don't apologise," he says firmly. "You must have been through a lot while tracking me down."

"Yeah." She seems to shudder as she says it. "Let's not talk about it right now."

He rubs his hand up and down her spine, kisses her brow, then softly kisses her mouth. "I could eat," he says by way of diverting her thoughts.

"Me too," she agrees, and slips off his lap. She grabs his left hand again, and moves across to the corner table.

He takes a closer look and sees that there are bowls of soup: tomato and basil from the scent; thick slices of bread and butter; some glazed donuts; and a pot of coffee.

"Sazzar's people seem to like human food," he observes.

She chuckles. "Nah, they eat fruit and nuts, and a certain kinda raw fish. I programmed the food dispenser for this." 

"Very Star Trek," he teases, and she rolls her eyes, then gestures at a chair, so they settle down to eat and catch up on each other's news: Daisy goes first, telling him about tracking down May and Mack and Elena, then Fitz and Simmons, and bringing them to a safehouse that she'd set up during her days working solo, before she met Robbie.

Coulson briefly tells her about his life aboard the Nova Corps prison, but purposefully keeps the worst aspects to himself – he'll almost certainly tell Daisy at some point, but like her, he'd rather not dwell on it right now.

"Are the others still at your safehouse?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "Not all of them. Fitz and Simmons moved to Radcliffe's place – Fitz said he could secure it and no one would be able to find it. So far that seems to be true – certainly there have been no reports of them being captured. But May and the others didn't want to go there."

"Unsurprisingly," Coulson said wryly.

"Yeah. Anyway, Fitz secured the safehouse before he and Simmons left, so hopefully they'll still be there when we get back."

"How long until we are back?"

"It's gonna be nearly a week, I'm afraid. Sorry."

He shakes his head. "It's okay. Gives us time to recover a bit."

She nods, then hides a yawn behind her hand. "God, sorry Phil. This isn't much of a birthday for you."

He chuckles softly. "Daisy, it's fine. I could certainly use some sleep – when you picked me up it was nearly the end of my work shift so I'd have been going to sleep soon anyway."

"Okay." She stacks their empty flatware onto one of the trays, then says, "I'm gonna take this back to the galley, then I think we should both sleep."

"Sounds good."

30 minutes later, they're spooned up together in bed: Daisy insists on being the big spoon, and Coulson's too tired to argue. He likes the sensation of Daisy's body wrapped tightly around his, though – the way she holds him as if she's afraid he'll slip away from her, and the way he feels safe and loved in her arms. It's a good feeling – and being rescued is definitely a good present.


End file.
